


Clint Barton Is Really Bad At (Hate) Sex

by respoftw



Series: Tumblr Prompts - Hawksilver edition [61]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:03:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4674524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked:<br/>Could you write something like ..*cough* hate sex *cough* ( which turns in not soooo much hate at the end...or after the 3.timexD )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clint Barton Is Really Bad At (Hate) Sex

Clint doesn't know how it happened that first time. Looking back, there's just this overpowering memory of anger and indescribable frustration directed towards the cocky, arrogant ass hole who was fast becoming the bane of his existence.

 

He doesn't hate Pietro, not really. It's more of a lingering resentment, the kid seemingly effortlessly showing all the traits in a “hero” that Clint quietly loathes, from his hipster-like bad dye job to his casual shrugging off of his incredible abilities, to his lackadaisical attitude to training, to his complete lack of regard for his own safety.

 

He'll never quite remember how those feelings translated into him fucking Pietro ruthlessly over the benches in the locker room, Pietro's strong runners legs splayed obscenely wide as Clint hammers into him from behind with the full force of his resentment. The kid looks wrecked, panting and whining, neck craning around to look at him, pleading for more, for harder, for deeper. Clint _does_ remember sneering at him and holding him down, watching with a feral grin as Pietro struggled to move even his neck, as he mewled his release over the tiled floor, as he then pulled out and finished himself off in a few quick strokes, the hot seed marring the pale expanse of Pietro's back before walking out without a backward glance.

 

*

 

Sometime later that night, as the guilt set in, after Clint faces up to the realisation that the encounter was not simply a vivid, adrenaline induced hallucination, he swears to himself that he won't let it happen again, that it _can't_ happen again.

 

This vow lasts all of eighteen hours until Pietro skips yet another training session and Clint's confrontation with him suddenly ends up with the two of them in a closet, Pietro looking sinfully good on his knees as Clint thrusts into the perfect 'O' of his wide, perfect mouth.

 

Clint spills his release down the hot, tight throat and immediately pulls Pietro up and into a bruising kiss while the kid ruts desperately against his thigh, sighing gratefully into his mouth as his hips stutter out his own release, directly into his pants before Clint flees the scene, once again leaving Pietro alone.

 

Clint's life is well and truly fucked.

 

*

 

The next time Pietro misses training, Steve comes down on him so hard that even Clint feels a little bit sorry for the kid. He just looks so damn lost and upset, his eyes shining with unshed tears, that Clint suddenly finds himself knocking on his door, banana cupcake in hand, which he thrusts wordlessly towards Pietro when he opens the door.

 

This time, at least, it's Pietro who starts it, dragging Clint into his room by his collar, pushing him down onto an armchair, straddling his lap and working his clever hands under Clint's belt and into his briefs, wrapping those long fingers around his cock like he knew every inch of it, working him slowly and comfortably towards orgasm.

 

Clint flips them over until their positions are reversed and returns the favour, drinking in the sight of Pietro, eyes wide, mouth open and watches as he falls over the edge, the sight of Pietro's release feeling almost better than his own.

 

They stay crammed in the chair, panting and exhausted and as Pietro's eyes fall closed, as his head drifts down until he's nestled against his shoulder, Clint stays still and lets it happen.

 

He leaves before Pietro can wake up.

 

*

 

It's like a game after that. How many places in Avengers HQ can they fuck?

 

The locker rooms have already been ticked off but one early morning as Clint was finishing his workout and Pietro just about to start his, Clint takes great pleasure in fucking him against the wall of the showers, the roar of the water drowning out any gasps and moans that escape from the hand Clint has over Pietro's mouth, two fingers working their way into that warm, willing mouth.

 

Clint takes a perverse pleasure in buckling Pietro, bare and perfect, into the pilot seat of the Quinjet, the sturdy black straps a perfect contrast to his pale, pink skin, framing him like the work of art that he is, before falling to his knees in the cockpit and proceeding to tease him mercilessly until he's boneless and sated.

 

Pietro is fearless and Clint takes great advantage of that by leading him up to the roof and bending him over the edge.

 

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

 

“No.” Pietro calls back teasingly over his shoulder, his words belied by the way he arches his back and pushes his toned, firm, perfect ass higher in the air.

 

“Smart man.” Clint grins before grabbing a secure hold on Pietro's hips and slamming into him, heart in his throat as Pietro moves even further over the edge of the building, his whooping laughter egging Clint to go faster, harder, deeper.

 

*

 

Steve's office, the common room, the kitchen, the woods outside, Clint is insatiable and Pietro meets him thrust for thrust.

 

*

 

There's also the times they don't fuck.

 

On the couch, playing Mario Kart, slapping at each other and cursing as they run each other off Rainbow Road.

 

In the gym, as Pietro ducks and weaves his way through Clint's arrow, grinning and teasing about supposedly perfect aim.

 

In Pietro's room late one night as the kid finally breaks down and explains that the reason he keeps skipping training is that the exercises Steve and SHIELD have designed for him remind him too much of the 'training' that HYDRA put him through, Clint holding him close and running his fingers through the bad dye-job that he now knows is a side-effect of the hell that Pietro had gone through, dropping gentle kisses on to his temple as he whispers promises that everything will be all right.

 

*

 

Clint stands next to Pietro as he speaks to Steve, watching with immeasurable pride as he explains about the training exercise, squeezing his hand as the words fail, hugging him against his side as Steve swears to him that things will change.

 

“You're cute together.” Steve smiles as he sees them out. “I'm happy for you both.”

 

_Oh._

 

Clint stumbles as the realisation hits him before shrugging it off and putting his arm around Pietro as they walk towards the kitchen, Pietro's answering grin saying more than words ever could.

 

_Oh._


End file.
